


Body Wreathed in Light

by afirethatcannotdie



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Couch Cuddles, Couch Sex, Established Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson, Established Relationship, Explicit Sexual Content, London, M/M, Roommates
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-01
Updated: 2017-12-01
Packaged: 2019-02-09 01:19:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,833
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12877125
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/afirethatcannotdie/pseuds/afirethatcannotdie
Summary: Reason #34: Your roommate is out of town and you can do it on the couchLouis has never felt a particular desperation to have sex on the couch - until Niall tells him he can't, and then suddenly it's all he can think about.





	Body Wreathed in Light

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you, S, for your help with this.

Louis checks the time on his phone for the fourth time in as many minutes. He opens WhatsApp and sees that Harry’s last online time is still 20 minutes ago. He’s supposed to be here by now, and he’s not.

Louis paces the flat, fluffing throw pillows that he fluffed ten minutes ago, swiping a bit of dust from the edge of the lamp, adjusting the rug by the couch. He takes another glance in the mirror and fixes the positioning of the zipper of his hoodie, pulling it down halfway and then pushing it back up. He pulls it down again and sighs, walking away from the mirror before he can spend any more time worrying about it.

Harry _knows_ what he looks like; he’s not going to be wasting time analyzing the positioning of Louis’ zipper. With any luck, he’s going to be too busy kissing Louis to even notice.

Harry hasn’t kissed Louis for _three whole weeks,_ because he’s been too busy traveling Europe with his sister during his break from uni. It was Gemma’s present for finishing her MA degree, and Louis is happy for her, he _is,_ but he’s jealous that he had to stay back in London and work while the two of them had adventures. It’s moments like this that he kind of hates that Harry’s in his last year of uni and he’s stuck working full-time. It’s not fair.

The first four days had been fine, and then Harry’s artsy Instagram pictures of all the beautiful places he was visiting became too much for Louis’ sense of jealousy. He also missed Harry a _lot,_ more than he would ever admit to anyone who doesn’t go by the name of Harry Styles.

They’re sappier about each other than they probably should be at this stage, nearly three years into a relationship that has no visualized end date for either of them. Louis really, _really_ doesn’t care that Niall and Liam tease them for it endlessly. Harry’s the love of his life, the only one he wants to spend the rest of his life with, and that’s all that matters to him.

As a kid, Louis wasn’t allowed out of bed on Christmas morning until the sun rose. He would lay there in the dark, tossing and turning as he waited for the moment that felt like it would never come. That’s what it feels like now, waiting for Harry to get to his flat from Heathrow.

He’s about to go to the loo to waste another minute of nervous energy when there’s a knock at the door. He jumps in surprise, runs his fingers through his hair and his tongue over his teeth, and then opens it with a flourish.

Harry’s standing there, looking unfairly good in a white t-shirt, with his faded brown duffle slung on one shoulder and a bright grin on his face.

“Well,” he says, smirking slightly in that way that Louis hates, mainly because of how much he loves it, “are you gonna let me in or do I need to stand here all day?”

“Hi,” Louis says, his voice raspy. “I missed you so much,” he says, and then Harry takes a step into the flat at the same time Louis throws his arms around him. The duffle drops to the floor with a loud thud as Harry finally, _finally_ kisses him.

Louis has been sleeping at his flat for the past three weeks but things have felt off, and now he’s _home,_ back with his favorite person, he knows exactly why that was.

He doesn’t notice that they’re moving until Harry kicks the door shut behind him and nudges him toward the couch.

They fall onto it, and Harry straddles Louis’ lap. Louis kisses a path down Harry’s neck, and Harry runs his hands up and down Louis’ sides, pulling lightly at the fabric of his hoodie. Louis lifts his hips slightly, rocking up against Harry, who sighs loudly.

“This is… quite the welcome home,” Harry manages.

“Missed you. A lot.”

“I figured,” Harry says, and he grins like he’s remembering the dirty messages Louis sent him on week two of their separation.

“Can you stop making that face and kiss me again?” Louis mutters, fighting a smile as he rolls his eyes. “We have a lot of time to make up for.”

“Yes sir,” Harry says, and when he kisses him again it’s more intense, dirty right from the start. Louis manages to get his hoodie off without removing his lips from Harry’s, and then they’re both in t-shirts and jeans. The only sounds in the quiet flat are that of them kissing, Harry murmuring to Louis every so often about how much he missed him. It’s good, but it’s not enough, not after three weeks.

“Take off your pants,” Louis says, rolling his hips up against Harry again. “Come on, get up, pants off.”

Harry looks around the flat, eyes darting wildly. “You don’t want to go to your room? Where’s Niall?”

Louis shakes his head, skin feeling itchy. “No time, don’t care. He’s not supposed to be back for ages.”

Harry raises an eyebrow, but a moment later, his pants are in a puddle on the floor and he’s got Louis laid out on the couch before him.

He trails gentle fingers down Louis’ chest and down to his crotch, resting his palm over Louis’ cock. He squeezes lightly, and even the suggestion of pressure has Louis jerking his hips in the air.

“C’mon, fuck me already, it’s been so long,” he says, a long whine, and Harry grins, still gazing at Louis. Louis is going to scream if he doesn’t get Harry’s hand on his cock in the next thirty seconds.

“So goddamn bossy,” Harry says, undoing the first button of Louis’ jeans. Louis tugs on the neck of his shirt and pulls him down to kiss him, Harry’s hand caught in between them.

“Love you,” Louis says. “Now fuck me, please.”

Harry laughs against Louis’ lips and is slowly, torturously undoing the zip of his jeans when the door opens and Niall lets out a loud cackle. Louis freezes, and sees his panicked expression reflected in Harry’s face.

“This is a dream, right?” Niall says, blinking slowly. His phone is inches from his ear, and Louis realizes that he’d been on the phone when he came in to find them on the couch. “You two aren’t _actually_ fucking on my couch, are you?”

Harry sighs and pulls himself off Louis, sitting down on the couch with the pout of a chastised child. Louis sits up and tucks his legs up underneath himself. He reaches out to squeeze Harry’s hand. Solidarity in the face of Niall’s anger, and all that.

“Well technically it’s not _your_ —” Louis starts, just as Harry says, “If you want to be precise about the language, we’re not actually having sex.”

“I don’t care! You might as well be, for the way you two look,” Niall says, putting his phone in his pocket and gesturing at the two of them.

Louis takes an objective look at Harry. His hair is sticking up because Louis has been running his fingers through it, and his cheeks are pink. Okay, maybe it looks like they’ve been making out a lot.

“You realize I haven’t seen Harry in _three whole weeks,_ right?”

“Yeah, yeah, welcome home, Harold. Nice to see you. Have a good time on your holiday?” Harry opens his mouth to speak, but Niall talks right over him. “Still can’t have sex on my couch, not even if it’s been a year.”

“We bought this couch together! It’s half mine!” Louis protests.

“Actually, you’re still paying me back for your half,” Niall says, kicking off his shoes and heading for the kitchen. “So if we’re gonna get precise about the language, it’s mine.”

Louis drops his face into his open palms and lets out a scream.

Harry tugs on his wrist. “Come on, baby, let’s go to your room.”

Louis pulls one hand away from his face. “Can we have sex?” he asks hopefully.

“Of course. Let’s go.”

\--

So it turns out that Louis _really_ wants to have sex on a couch. He never knew that it was a thing for him, but in the days since Harry’s been home, it’s all he can think about. Sure, it’s nice in their respective beds and it’s _really_ good in the shower, but there’s something about not being allowed to have sex on the couch that makes him need it desperately.

“I wish you had a real couch instead of those armchairs,” Louis whines, clutching at Harry’s hips as Harry rides him in his bed one morning. “Liam probably wouldn’t care if we had sex on it.”

“Oh my god, you’re obsessed,” Harry says, pushing himself back down on Louis’ cock. He twists his hips slightly and the back of Louis’ eyes are drenched in velvety black and all thoughts of couch sex fly out of his head.

He tries again a few weeks later, when he’s got Harry pressed up against the fridge in his and Niall’s flat, one hand up the back of his shirt and the other cupping Harry’s cheek as he kisses him. There’s pasta boiling on the stove and Niall’s in his bedroom, blaring music from his old record player.

“What if we just do it real quick,” Louis says, urgency in his voice. “Like, quickest ever. He might even not notice.”

Harry laughs and pushes against Louis’ shoulders. “Pasta’s gonna burn.”

“I don’t care about the pasta!” Louis whines. “I’m gonna _die_ without ever getting to have sex on a couch.”

“You’ve never had sex on a beach either,” Harry says, entirely unhelpful as he flicks off the stove and drains the spaghetti.

“You’re supposed to want to help me in this effort! Don’t you love me?”

“I do, baby,” Harry says, patting his hip. “Of course I do. I just think you need to let it go for a bit.”

Louis pouts and turns out of his grasp to get the vegetables out of the fridge.

There’s no way he’s going to let it go.

\--

Louis gets home from work one evening a few weeks later, shivering slightly. There’s the beginnings of a chill in the air, and it’s starting to get darker when he walks home from the tube station lately. Autumn is definitely on her way in. It’s Louis’ favorite time of year: he fell in love with Harry as the leaves fell from the trees, and there’s something about the chill in the air that reminds him of warm sweaters and curling up under blankets, laughing over mugs of tea and learning more about the love of his life.

So he’s sappy about autumn, and about Harry and he doesn’t see either of those things changing.

“I’m hooooome,” he calls as he walks through the door, expecting to find Niall upside down on the couch playing video games. He’s met with silence. That’s weird. Niall’s _always_ here when he gets home from work.

There’s something on the kitchen table, an orange post-it note with scribbled handwriting. It has to be Niall’s, but it’s so different from his usual, measured handwriting, like he was in a hurry as he wrote it.

_Lou,_

_Had to go back to Ireland for the weekend - my sister in law went into labor! Sorry for ditching you for tomorrow’s football match; maybe H can go? Will text baby pics. Should be back in a few days._

_Nialler xx_

It’s a pretty large post-it.

He’s got the flat to himself for the next few days, he realizes. He can play music as loud as he wants, can walk around naked, can—

Can have sex on the couch.

His hands fly to his phone and he’s calling Harry before he can even think about it.

“Haz, Haz, you need to come over. Right now,” he says, heart beating wildly in his chest.

“What’s wrong?” Harry asks, voice hushed. He’s probably in class, fuck.

Louis takes a deep breath, willing himself to calm down. He’s turned on as fuck thinking about _finally_ getting fucked on the couch, but he’s not an animal. He can wait an hour. “It’s not an emergency, just come over when you’re free.”

Harry shows up at his door within twenty minutes, a panicked expression on his face. “What happened?”

“Niall’s gone,” Louis says, pulling off his socks and dropping his trousers to the floor. “Get naked.”

“What do you mean, Niall’s gone?” Harry asks, shutting the door behind him and shrugging off his jacket. It falls to the floor and he goes to pick it up, but Louis tugs him in by the belt loops and kisses him hard.

“His sister-in-law went into labor, he’s gone to Ireland, blah blah.”

“She’s having the baby?” Harry asks, his face lighting up like the sun.

“Yes, Harold, that’s normally what happens when a woman goes into labor,” Louis says dryly, sliding Harry’s belt out from his jeans.

“This is so exciting. I wonder what they’re going to name it.”

“Harry.”

“Right, right, sorry,” Harry says, pulling off Louis’ shirt and then his own. A moment later, they’re both entirely naked in the middle of the living room. There’s a window that looks onto a courtyard, and just beyond that, another building. If someone really tried, they could probably see what the two of them are doing.

Might as well give them a show.

“How do you want to do this?” Harry asks, trailing his hand along Louis’ hip.  A shiver runs through him at the touch, and Harry steps closer and kisses him once, brushing their cocks together as he goes.

“I want to ride you,” Louis decides. Best to go with his spur of the moment decision. “On the edge of the couch, just there.”

“Alright,” Harry says, rolling his shoulders back.

Louis darts into the bedroom for a condom and lube (if they make a mess on the couch, Niall will _actually_ slaughter him and feed his bones to their neighbor’s dog) and when he gets back, Harry is relaxing against the couch cushions, legs splayed, his hand circling his cock loosely. His eyes are closed and his head is thrown back, exposing the pale skin of his neck.

Louis has to take a minute just to stare at him, mesmerized by the way his hand moves so slowly, thumb brushing over the head before working its way back down.

“Thought you wanted to have sex,” Harry comments, eyes still closed. It startles Louis; he hadn’t realized Harry knew he was there. “But by all means, keep watching if you want. Turns me on.”

It takes Louis a moment to find his voice. “Stop touching yourself, that’s my job.”

A thrill runs through him at the way Harry immediately drops his hand to the couch, eyes flying open to grin at Louis.

“That’s better,” Louis murmurs, closing the distance between them in a few quick strides. He tosses the condom and lube to the side of the couch and straddles Harry, knees resting on either side of his hips. From this angle, he’s taller than him, and as he wraps his arms around his neck for balance, he kisses him deeply.

Harry’s hard already, he can feel him against his leg, and Louis kisses him once more and then fumbles for the condom.

“I’ll do it,” Harry says. “Just give me a minute.” He runs his hands along Louis’ bare chest, drops kisses on his collarbones, and reaches for the lube.

The process of opening Louis up is agonizingly slow: Harry insists the angle is wrong and he coaxes Louis to lay on the couch, legs hugged to his chest as Harry works slicked up fingers into his arse.

“Fuck, that feels good,” Louis moans as Harry flicks his wrist, two fingers deep, and trails his teeth along the sensitive skin on the back of his legs. Harry bites him lightly, just once, and Louis’ hips snap up as he squirms away.

“Easy, easy,” Harry says, pulling his fingers out and holding him still with a hand on his hip. He nips him again as he inserts three fingers.

Eventually, blessedly, Harry decides that he’s ready. He removes his fingers, hesitates for a moment, and then leans over Louis and slides his sticky hand into his hair, tugging gently as he kisses him. Louis’ legs fall open as Harry settles on top of him, their hard cocks trapped between them. The ends of Harry’s hair (it’s getting long now, nearly touching his shoulders, and Louis loves it) brush against Louis’ collarbones. There’s a flash of white behind Louis’ eyelids as Harry grinds his hips down against Louis, and that’s when he’s decided he’s had enough.

“Enough, enough,” he says as he pulls away from Harry’s kisses and trails his teeth along one of Harry’s nipples. He pinches the other one lightly, and Harry lets out a little groan.

“Need to—condom,” he manages. Louis sucks on his neck in response.

Harry takes the condom packet from where it’s fallen to the floor. He’s got it on himself before Louis has time to think about it.

“C’mere,” Harry says, sitting up and pulling Louis forward, closer to him. He settles Louis on his lap so that he’s facing him, and kisses him briefly once, twice, three times.

Louis’ cock is hard against his stomach. Harry takes a minute to give it a few slow tugs, and Louis keens, letting out a brief wail that he hopes the neighbors can hear.

“You good?”

“Harold, if you don’t hurry up I’m going to—”

“Alright, alright,” Harry says, laughing against his mouth, and then he helps Louis line himself up on his cock.

For all his desperation a moment ago, Louis sinks down slowly, adjusting to the stretch. Harry rests his forehead against his shoulder when he sinks all the way down, and Louis kisses the top of his head.

They don’t talk much, both of them too turned on and antsy to banter. He uses Harry’s shoulders for leverage, pushing himself up and down, and Harry’s hands run up and down his back, scratching lightly every so often.

The world is quiet, except for their heavy breathing and the sounds of intermittent kissing, desperate and fast.

After a few minutes, Louis slips out and has to line himself up again, and Harry giggles. It’s so unexpected that Louis can’t help but laugh, and then suddenly the two of them are caught in a giggling fit while Louis continues to ride him. It feels good when he keeps going, it feels better when Harry’s hips thrust up to meet his movements, and it feels absolutely fucking _incredible_ when he leans back and changes the angle. Harry must feel it too, because he bites down on Louis’ collarbone, hard. It only encourages Louis to go faster.

Heat builds as he increases the speed of his movements, and Harry starts to jerk him off.

“Come on, baby, come for me,” Harry says, rubbing his thumb over the head of Louis’ cock. “I want you to come so loud the neighbors can hear you. Bet you’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

Louis nods, bouncing faster. His skin feels hot and sweaty, and his legs are hurting from staying in this position. But he can’t stop until he comes — he’ll probably _die_ if he doesn’t come soon.

“Yeah, you’re so hot,” Harry whispers. “So fucking hot, all mine, baby. Come for me. Let them all hear you, baby.”

That’s what does it in the end, the thought that his annoying neighbor next door can hear him come. It takes three quick thrusts of Harry’s hips in the air, one squeeze of his cock, and then he’s spilling into Harry’s hand with a shout.

“Fuck,” he whispers against Harry’s forehead as he collapses against him, mindful of the fact that Harry’s cock is still buried in his arse. Harry’s sweaty curls brush against his face, and he presses a kiss to his hairline.

“Fuck is right,” Harry says, his cheeks pink and flushed, and he gestures for Louis to get up. There’s a burn as Harry slips out, and then before he knows it Louis is laid out on his couch before Harry, who slides back in immediately.

“Stay close,” Louis whispers, wrapping his ankles around Harry’s arse to keep him there. It takes a few shallow thrusts, a string of dirty words whispered in Harry’s ear, and a sloppy kiss to his neck, and then Harry is coming, his face buried in Louis’ shoulder.

Sweaty and panting, Louis runs his hands slowly up and down Harry’s back, tracing patterns on his skin while they recover.

“Now that was hot,” Harry says quietly. Louis laughs.

“Told you it would be.”

“You’re always right,” Harry says, sticking out his tongue. He rolls off Louis with a heaving breath, and presses a sloppy kiss to the center of his chest. Louis watches as he pulls off the condom and ties it off. He expects him to drop it to the floor, but instead he gets off the couch entirely. “I’m gonna go get a towel. You’re so dirty.”

“That is entirely true,” Louis calls to his retreating form. “Also, nice bum!”

Harry turns around and sticks out his tongue.

He’s only gone for a moment, barely forty five seconds, but Louis still feels lonely and cold until he returns. “Your phone’s ringing,” he says, handing it over as he cleans Louis off, wiping his stomach and legs gently.

Louis debates ignoring it; surely whatever Niall has to say can wait.

He probably shouldn’t.

“Hey, what’s up?”

“Nothing, just landed in Dublin, wanted to say hi,” Niall says, and Louis sits up so that Harry can cuddle up next to him.

“Well, hi.”

“Also, I forgot to put the rest of my lasagna in the freezer before I left. Do you mind?”

“Sure, I’ll have Harry do it,” Louis says, dodging Harry’s elbow jab.

“Oh, Harry’s there? I thought he had class at this time.”

“He ditched,” Louis says, kissing Harry quickly.

“Ew, did you just kiss? You two aren’t having sex, are you?” Niall suddenly sounds worried.

“Technically, no,” Harry says loudly. “We’re just hanging out on the couch.”

“Oh my _GOD!”_ Niall screeches. “You two just had sex on the couch, didn’t you?”

“No comment,” Louis says, just as Harry says, “You should try it sometime.”

There’s some incoherent yelling from Niall, so Louis just tells him that they’ll take care of the lasagna and hangs up.

“That was really good, baby.”

“Want to do it again?” Harry asks, winding his arms around Louis’ neck.

“Yes please. Feeling a bit peckish though, you wore me out. How does some free lasagna sound?”

“Breaking all the rules in one day, I like it,” Harry says with a grin. “Lead the way.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! I'd love to know what you thought!


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